Today I was thinking about the artist Hieroynyous Bosch and an interview that I heard on KEXP with the singer Bobby Bare. It's a long story, but the two of these things combined in my mind and the next thing you know I was making some miniature cacti gardens.

As my botany instructor likes to say: “plants are like people: they’re all unique individuals.” So where better to look than the world of horticulture when plotting a seating chart for a dinner? This lineup of sparkling personalities was designed to keep the conversation (and wine) flowing—with a few irascible characters (and 3 unidentified party crashers) in the mix.*

*NB: One of the guests was a bit camera shy, so she didn’t make it in the group portrait.

Fall is officially here, but my tomato patch is still going strong, and one of the best ways to put the fruits of my summer labor to use is to make a tart. It's easy, delicious and perfect with a simple green salad and a bottle of bubbly. When this savory pastry, bursting with amazing tomato-y goodness comes out of the oven, your friends will declare you a culinary genius. Take a bow and let them toast you with a glass of champagne. Because you ARE a genius.

The celery gimlet, designed by Naron Young of NYC's Saxon & Parole, is the ultimate garden cocktail. Actually, it's just the ultimate cocktail plain and simple—but its vibrant green hue and delightfully bright-yet-earthy flavor make it especially welcome on a warm summer night. It does require some work: lots of celery- and lime-juicing which is a bit tedious, and multiple ingredients (including green chartreuse which is expensive). Nevertheless, the effort is well worth the trouble, and the liqueur goes a long way.

Lately I've been meditating on word pairs, and how certain combinations shift our perceptions of the individual words involved. What sparked this thought is a collection of 1970's-inspired rings that just arrived in the shop. The options range from positive to profane, and it's fun watching people try them on.

One of my favorite things in the shop right now is a very special collection of scents by the Brooklyn-based perfumer, Christopher Brosius. For the uninitiated, the name of Brosius's company, CB I Hate Perfume, often evokes a laugh. It's a counter-intuitive brand name for a fragrance maker, but the backstory is brilliant.

I love the industrial-meets-rustic look of concrete planters—and I'm very excited to share the new collection that I've been working on (available soon at the shop). Like all good art projects, the making of pots includes a healthy dose of research and some exciting revelations. And while there are already a lot of really great how-tos out there, my hope is to add a few additional bits of wisdom to the pot-making oeuvre in case you want to try this yourself. (Plus, I'm throwing in a link to Momofuku Milk Bar's cornflake chocolate chip marshmallow cookie recipe—and I swear it's not off-topic You'll see why in just a bit.)

Stress. It's a symptom of our modern world, and it can really affect the quality of our lives. Luckily, there are some easy exercises (in tandem with some wonderful, meditative breathing techniques) to get us back on track, calm and revitalized. Dr. Johannes Liu, a longtime practitioner of TaiChi, meditation and Chinese herbal medicine is here to show us how it's done.

Back in February I wrote about making myself some floral art to celebrate Valentine's Day, and I waxed poetic about Azuma Makoto, an artist whose work is an enduring source of inspiration. Scroll through my posts and you'll notice a major theme: I'm crazy about making structures out of flowers, leaves, branches and grass. And, I'm envisioning that plants, living and dried, will be an essential part of my store.

The shift from summer to fall is in the air. Signs of the transition are everywhere, even in unexpected places like the neglected alley behind my house, where I recently spied a row of tall golden grass. I must have driven past it countless times, but backlit by the late-afternoon sun its beauty was impossible to resist. I took a break from weeding my flower beds, grabbed my clippers and gathered some up. I thought immediately of the incredible botanical sculptor, Tracey Deep, and how my newfound material would be perfect for creating something with the sort of woven detail that I've admired in her work.

I am so grateful for Seattle's light rail. Without it, I'd have to drive to work in horrendous commuter traffic. But there's a catch: I live over a mile from the station, which means either walking or riding the #50 bus to and fro. In the morning, it's a breeze. The bus is almost always on time and well synced with my transit app. Going home, it's another story.

It's exciting to see signs of a new season, even though Spring is technically over a month away. After a week of intense rain, a sunny day in Seattle calls for a celebration—especially when shrubs and trees are starting to flower and leaf. A willow along my back walkway needed trimming, so I decided to use the clippings to make a wreath.

Today is Valentine's Day, a holiday that I have always adored—whether I'm in a relationship or not. That philosophy comes in handy for me this year since I'm in the midst of a breakup (and it's not one that I was expecting or wanted). Despite the lingering heartbreak, I decided to mark the event by making myself a botanical sculpture. (Here's looking at you Makoto Azuma.)

I have never been a big fan of Winter. But my newfound interest in plants—especially brown curly leaves and the shriveled flowers of summer, has shown me a side of the season that I am truly enjoying. One of my favorite things to do is mix dried specimens with freshly cut greens and hothouse blooms.

The other day I was walking in the rain with a friend when my eye fell on this twig. It was lying on the wet bricks in Pioneer Square looking a bit forlorn, like it had fallen violently from a tree or been thoughtlessly cast aside. I suppose that's one of the reasons that it spoke to me. That, and the fact that I found it's shape really, truly beautiful. "I love that twig!" I sang out as soon as I saw it. And I knew instantly that I would take it home and paint it a vibrant shade of blue.

Seattle winters live up to their reputation: days and days of epic rain. What I never really appreciated though, until this last year when I started gardening, is that there are also some pretty incredible sun breaks. When the sun comes out after a big rain it can feel positively balmy—especially when I'm running around doing lots of sweeping and raking.

I get an incredible thrill making something out of nothing—especially when the project is spontaneous. This morning the sun was shining, and I felt inspired to walk around my South-Seattle neighborhood. What's great about my route is the mix of carefully tended gardens interspersed with less well kept (or vacant/under-construction) lots. There are lots of spots where the plant life is in the public domain. I brought a pair of trimmers and a tote bag along in case anything arrangement-worthy caught my eye.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon terracing a formerly weed-strewn hillside, inspired by a DIY that I found on Tenth Acre Farm. This project really appeals to my scrappy side: no carpentry skills are required, and it's super low cost. The only thing I had to buy were a few inexpensive garden stakes. Everything else was free-cycled.